Myriad Heavens: Rise of the Rune God

Chapter 311: Chapter 312: The Paragon’s Seizure 2 - Reports

A sharp pang of regret moved through him when he thought about the inheritance. He had not entered the Reliquary merely to survive. He had entered it to grow, to gain the Rune Sovereign’s knowledge, and to secure a path that could carry him higher. Now that chance had been ripped away before he could even understand what had changed. Still, the pain did not last long, because a more urgent truth replaced it. He had gained a great deal inside the ruin as well. The rune knowledge he had obtained, the cultivation methods he had refined, and the experience of surviving under the Reliquary’s brutal trials were all still his. He needed time to digest all of it, and he needed a safe place to do so.

He tried to think through the situation, but the more he thought, the worse it became. He had no other contacts in the wider Multiverse. The only person he truly knew here was Runar, and Runar was unreachable. He was still relatively new to this wider world. He had no sect, no clan, no backing force, and no safe harbor waiting to answer his call. Every direction looked equally foreign. Every star felt equally distant. For the first time since entering the Multiverse, Wukong was truly lost.

After a long silence, he lowered his staff and exhaled.

Then he remembered something important. Runar had left a clone back in their home sector. That clone was the only reliable anchor he had left. If he could find his way back, he could at least regroup, recover, and wait for Runar’s return. The Multiverse had shown him its true face in a single instant — a place where even a being of his level could be casually discarded by something far above.

He turned toward the distant direction of home, though he knew the journey would not be easy.

He would return to their home sector. He would not be coming back to the Multiverse anytime soon.

It was truly too scary.

---

Vark landed in a cold, empty stretch of void.

His body stabilized instantly, but his expression remained icy, as though being hurled across millions of sectors by an incomprehensible power was merely an inconvenience. Still, his eyes were sharper than usual. He understood instantly what had occurred. Only a true Paragon could have forcibly teleported him out of the Reliquary without even a moment of struggle or resistance. The spatial authority had been absolute. There had been no gap to exploit, no principle to counter, and no technique that could have delayed the expulsion. It had not been a battle. It had been a decision made by someone who no longer needed to fight beings like him.

The return of his suppressed power did not comfort him. If anything, it made the loss feel more real. His Principle of Annihilation responded again, cold and obedient, but the Reliquary was gone. The Rune Sovereign’s inheritance was gone. The chance to claim a legacy left behind by a being who had once stood at the edge of transcendence had vanished in a single gesture from an existence he could not challenge. For the first time in a very long while, Vark felt the dull pain of an opportunity lost forever.

Yet he did not curse. He did not rage. He simply stood in the void and accepted the truth, because anger without a target was useless. He had still gained something inside the ruin. The rune knowledge he had extracted, the applications of annihilation he had refined, and the understanding he had gained from the trial’s brutal environment were all valuable enough to strengthen his foundation for a long time. He would need time to digest those gains and advance his cultivation properly. If he wasted them chasing revenge before he was ready, he would lose twice.

He raised one hand and sent a concise, emotionless report up his own chain of command.

The ruin was gone. A Paragon had been involved. That was all that needed to be said.

Anything else would be speculation, and Vark did not waste words on speculation.

---

Sylphy appeared above a distant, unfamiliar planet.

Silver bloodline markings flickered across her arms with residual shock, as though her lineage itself had been startled by the forced displacement. She stabilized her footing in the air with a single controlled motion, took one measured breath, and immediately opened a communication channel to her organization and bloodline elders. Her face was calm, but her eyes carried the sharp edge of someone who had just been reminded how small she still was.

The return of her power made the situation clearer, but not easier. Her bloodline circulation responded again, and the silver markings along her arms regained their familiar luster, but that only confirmed what she had lost. The Reliquary was no longer around her. The inheritance was no longer within reach. The pain of that realization pressed against her chest like a blade, because she had sacrificed bloodline essence inside the ruin to survive and grow. She had paid a permanent price for the chance to claim the Sovereign’s legacy, and now that chance had been stolen by a force she could not resist.

Still, she was not someone who drowned in regret. The rune knowledge she had obtained inside the trial was still hers. The experience of surviving under suppression, of using bloodline burns and runic comprehension to claw her way forward, had sharpened her in ways that could not be taken away. She needed time to digest what she had gained, stabilize her foundation, and turn those gains into real advancement. If she rushed into the wider Multiverse without consolidating, she would become prey.

Her report was precise.

Sudden expulsion from the Reliquary by an overwhelming force. Complete loss of the ruin’s coordinates. Clear involvement of a power far beyond Multiversal level. Significant rune knowledge obtained, requiring immediate seclusion for digestion. No further action possible without guidance.

She did not mention fear, because fear was irrelevant. She only mentioned facts, because facts were what her elders would need.

---

Soren Vale found himself in a quiet starfield.

His scholarly calm was visibly strained. He floated in silence for several seconds, analyzing the residual spatial fluctuations still clinging to his body with the focus of a man trying to solve a puzzle that had just threatened his life. The conclusion was unavoidable. A Paragon-level spatial authority had used. No Multiversal formation, no ancient artifact, and no hidden trial protocol could have produced such an absolute displacement. Someone at the peak of existence had acted personally.

The return of his suppressed power brought him no relief. It only confirmed the finality of the loss. His scholarly aura stabilized, his principles answered his call, and the familiar laws of the Multiverse surrounded him once again, but the Reliquary was gone. The Rune Sovereign’s inheritance, the thing he had risked everything to study, had vanished beyond his reach. For a scholar like Soren, that loss was almost unbearable. He had stood inside a library built by a sovereign of runes, and now the library had been taken away by a hand he could not even see.

Yet even through that pain, he recognized the value of what remained. He had extracted more rune knowledge from the Reliquary than most cultivators could gather in a lifetime. The trial had forced him to read, adapt, and internalize principles that would have otherwise taken centuries to master. If he could find a safe place to digest all of it, his cultivation would advance by leaps and bounds. The inheritance was gone, but the knowledge he had gained was still real.

He composed a detailed report and sent it to his academic faction superiors without delay. Every observation he had managed to record in the final moments before ejection was attached — the destabilization of the Reliquary, the disappearance of the Ancient Will’s guiding presence, the anomalies surrounding Runar’s - how much of a genius he was, the return of suppressed powers after expulsion, and the overwhelming authority that had removed him from the trial. He also included a careful assessment of the rune knowledge he had obtained, because his faction would immediately understand how valuable such gains were.

Then he waited, because scholars knew that the most dangerous moments were the ones that came after the first shock.

---

Darius appeared in a chaotic asteroid region.

Panic and confusion dominated first. Darius cursed violently, energy fluctuating wildly around him as he tried to understand what had just occurred. His face was pale, his breathing uneven, and the energy inside his channels trembled as though it too had been frightened by the expulsion.

The return of his suppressed powers made the situation feel even crueler. His cultivation bases responded again, their principles stirred, and the familiar texture of the Multiverse surrounded him, but that familiarity only reminded him of what he had lost. He was no longer inside the Reliquary. The chance to claim the Rune Sovereign’s inheritance was gone. Darius slammed his fist into a drifting asteroid, shattering it into dust, because the pain of that realization was easier to express than to accept.

Still, even he could not deny that he had gained something. The rune knowledge they had obtained inside the trial, the experience of surviving the suppression, and the fragments of comprehension he had gathered during the hunt were all real. If he could find time to digest those gains, their cultivation would improve significantly. The problem was that time was not guaranteed. The Multiverse had just reminded them how easily powerful forces could reach down and discard them.

Once the initial shock passed, he contacted the highest authority in his faction. His report was short but urgent.

The Reliquary had vanished. They had been forcibly removed by an overwhelming, unchallengeable power. A Paragon was involved. They had obtained some rune knowledge, but required time and protection to digest it.

He didnt mention his personal schemes, his failures, or the things he had done inside the trial. Those details no longer mattered. What mattered was that the board had been flipped over by a hand they could not see.

---

Lyra appeared in an empty stretch of starfield and wasted no time.

The return of her suppressed power confirmed what her senses already told her. She was outside the Reliquary. The trial was over. The inheritance was gone. That realization brought a brief flash of pain, because she too had entered the ruin seeking growth, opportunity, and the possibility of claiming something greater. But Lyra had always been disciplined enough to separate regret from action. She could mourn the lost opportunity later. Right now, she needed to report what had happened and secure a place to stabilize her gains.

She immediately opened an emergency channel to the higher-ups of the Multiversal Reincarnation Academy, her voice steady despite the lingering disorientation of forced displacement. She delivered a clear and urgent report of the expulsion, the disappearance of the ruin, and the unmistakable involvement of a Paragon-level existence. She also mentioned that the participants had gained significant rune knowledge during the trial and would need time to digest it, because that detail would affect how the Academy treated the returning survivors.

She did not speculate about Runar, the Ancient Will, or the anomalies she had felt in the final moments. She simply reported what she knew, because in situations like this, clarity was more valuable than imagination.

Across the void, the remaining minor participants experienced the same sequence in variations: disorientation, realization, and then urgent communication up their respective hierarchies. Some screamed. Some froze. Some immediately began trying to survive in unfamiliar sectors. But all of them, without exception, sent the same core message upward.

The Reliquary was gone.

A Paragon had acted.